A world about which you did not question yourself, you did not ask yourself questions: you simply represented it. “The photograph I think about and in which I reflect is not a term of endearment. She's not pretty, she's not nice. It has no pretensions, apart from finding a home in me ”, I have heard you repeat several times over the years, during the work shared together for Interni at the FuoriSalone of the Design Weeks in April.

Your biggest lesson (I know Efrem, you wouldn't have liked this word) was that “we are what we photograph”. And you and your photography were just that: instantly recognizable, simply essential, authoritatively rigorous. Whether you photograph Vasco Rossi soaked in the shower in jeans and a white shirt, Philippe Starck covered with a cellophane cloth, the ruined and dirty feet of Zlatan Ibrahimović, your father who you have always considered your teacher, Strip your beloved cat , your wife Laura, a piece or a design furniture, the matrix has always been that of your reflection, immediately visible. And to do that you exposed yourself, you laid bare your world view. The photograph you thought of has always been this.

You once said to me: “Always remain naive, do not emulate but always try to be consistent with your vision and transform what you see and think into expression. It is the only way to emerge. "

Now I have no more words. I'm just saying: thank you and have a nice trip ...